Sam swallows back bile at the sound of tearing flesh, at the sight of blood dripping down from his little sister's body, mangled and torn and Sam can't even figure out what it was that killed her, not with her head sitting in Kurloz's hands. He's pretty sure the only reason he isn't throwing up is because he's seen - well, no, not worse. It's worse now because it's his sister, because he can't even bring himself to think her name when she's ripped up like that.

But just because two tours of pararescue and more after left him desensitized to this level of violence doesn't mean he wants to look at it, and he keeps his eyes firmly on Kurloz's.

He opens his mouth, but closes it again, because he's still stuck in what the fuck. There's no way he can come around the slightest bit to thinking that there's anything about this that's at all okay right now, and he ain't even gonna try. The best he can do is keep going with what he'd been trying to do in the first place.

"You gonna come back with me off the battlefield now?"